Open Bar

[unheiring]

[Luca has spent a few days grappling with the concept of death. Again.

He didn't know Vash, but he knew people that knew him. Ain and Livio, two people Luca would call friends, cared for him. And Joshua, who had already lost so much, had loved Dion.

It's hard to deal with. Hard to swallow. And though Luca has made so much progress on himself, he still doesn't know how to handle grief like this.

So he does the only thing he can think to do.]

Free drinks. All month.
Food too.
... We shouldn't be alone right now.
Again.

Comments

[eidxiety]

Are you gonna kill me if I drink my weight in wine tonight?

[unheiring]

Not tonight.
Not this month, even.
Do what you need to do, okay?

[eidxiety]

Cool, I'll be right there.

[And he will leave that thought there, only to show up a few minutes later, clip clop go his deer hooves as he walks his little faun ass into the bar.

He sits at the counter.

He's not even sure he likes wine, but he definitely doesn't like beer, so if he's going to get drunk on anything... it's going to be wine. He's going to drink the reddest wine possible and hate every second of it. Also, hi Luca—]

[unheiring]

[When it becomes clear that Ain isn't exactly enjoying his wine, he snatches the glass away. It's replaced, quickly, with a sweeter cider. He gives Ain a challenging look, as if to say "tell me I'm wrong," but otherwise remains silent.

For a minute.

Or two.

And then.]

You should eat something. [And lest Ain try to argue, he adds.] Or you'll be cleaning your own sick off my floor.

[eidxiety]

I don't get sick easily...

[...but. He shouldn't make Luca wonder if this might be the one time he does, and he's pathetic and sad and wet as it is.]

...okay. Haha, do you have any of that stew you normally make? I always liked that.

[Also, thank you for the sweet cider, Luca.]

[unheiring]

[Thankfully, he doesn't have to argue with Ain. He offers a quick nod and a warm smile, before trotting over to the hearth. He scoops out a relatively small serving — he gets how hard it is to eat when you're struggling — and returns. A spoon is plopped into the stew before it's pushed over to him.]

There you go. That should be more than plenty.

[eidxiety]

Thanks.

[For a while, Ain will eat in silence, waiting until he's finished the stew to run his mouth. It would be oddly polite of him, since he's always someone who talks while eating, if the reasoning weren't... well, what it is.

The cider gets sipped, and then he lays his head against the table and sighs.]

I'm tired, Mr. Bartender. [But not physically. Emotionally.] I'm tired of losing people. I've never lost them before, not like this.

[unheiring]

[While Ain eats, Luca does some cleaning. Mostly glasses, and always nearby. If Ain wants to talk, he won't be so far away that Luca will fail to hear it. And once he does catch wind, he returns to Ain's side. Not on his usual side of the bar, but at a chair nearby.]

Death is... difficult. Especially in a place like this, where there is always hope too. [There was a mercy, in many ways, that his father had simply died. He didn't have to sit and wonder if he would come back, when he would come back. There was no need to watch the trees, day in and day out.]

It doesn't get easier, either.

[eidxiety]

Great. Cool.

[It's not that he was expecting it to get easier, but the sarcasm really is all he can muster about it. When they failed the attack on Suri, everyone came back... so Ain got fairly comfortable with the idea of functional immortality. It's not realistic, but he's never been that, has he?]

I don't know how to deal with grieving, I guess. I never had to.

[unheiring]

Not at all? [Luca hums a low note, grimly impressed.] Have to say, I'm a bit jealous.

[He lays a hand against Ain's back, right between the shoulder blades. Small circles are rubbed there as he continues to mull over his thoughts.]

I'm sorry. I don't really have advice on how to make it easier. But I can tell you what not to do. Don't let yourself sit with it, or be alone with it. Lean on those that you still have. And feel it. Cry if you can. Break something if you must. But do not pretend that it isn't there.

[eidxiety]

Mm... it's complicated, I guess. Technically we as the El Search Party experienced a lot of losses, but for most of them, I didn't have the emotional capacity to understand. Angels aren't supposed to have emotions. The rest of the party gets hung up on them, but at the time we experienced those losses, I didn't have anything to say or any attachments. Then, by the time I fully grew into emotions, we stopped losing people...

It's dumb to say, but it feels like luck more than skill sometimes. We've been embroiled in wars, so how come nothing ever feels quite as bad as other people say war is...?

[He sighs, appreciating the back rubs for what it's worth, though he doesn't choose to comment on them.]

And then I came here, and the losses really started to hit. I don't know... I'm usually crying these days, so it's not like your advice is going to influence that one way or another. Thanks for the encouragement, though.

[unheiring]

Honestly, you are not far off. Survival really is a matter of luck. And the more notoriety you have, the lower your luck grows. [He glances down toward his hands, curling them into fists.] It is surprising, really, that my family went as long as it did without issue. Our Blessing is what distinguished our family line, and its weakness made us vulnerable. We were easy to target.

[He shakes his head, before glancing back to Ain once more.]

But we are not here for my grief, are we? You are dealing with something you have never handled before, not to mention trying to shoulder it in spades. Anyone would be beat down.

[He shifts his hand, sliding it gingerly across the table, palm facing upward.]

But if nothing else, you are not alone.